Of Gods & Monsters
by a-perpetual-hiraeth
Summary: After the death of Jeb Hawkes, Barnabas comforts a grief-stricken Carolyn.


**So, I really enjoyed the Leviathan storyline. It kept me intrigued and guessing. I found Jeb to be an interesting character, and despite his (many) flaws, I'm convinced he truly loved Carolyn. He did ultimately sacrifice his Leviathan-hood for her sake, after all. :)**

 **Enjoy! Reviews would be much appreciated. :)**

* * *

Carolyn had a knack for choosing strange boyfriends, but Elizabeth could honestly say she never foresaw having a demi-god for a son-in-law. Even by Carolyn's standards, that was a new one.

Elizabeth had never approved of Carolyn's marriage to Jeb, and had made that quite clear. The only reason she'd given it her blessing was to avoid losing contact with Carolyn. The wedding ceremony had been quick, modest, and uncomfortable. In the back of Elizabeth's mind was the gnawing fear of Carolyn experiencing what she had with Carolyn's father, Paul: a loveless marriage to a selfish, childish man who caused her misery. Short as it was, Elizabeth's marriage to Paul Stoddard had been agonizing, and the thought of Carolyn in such a marriage was unbearable.

Yet she couldn't deny that the night Jeb died, she'd never seen Carolyn so inconsolable. Carolyn had come home right after it happened. Elizabeth had been in her bedroom when she heard Carolyn shout "Mother, where are you?" from the foyer. She'd rushed downstairs, knowing something was wrong, and Carolyn threw herself into her arms, her whole body going limp. "Jeb is dead," she'd sobbed. "Jeb is dead! He's dead! I can't believe I lost him!"

She nearly fainted when she said she'd seen it happen. Had Elizabeth not been close enough to catch her and hold her upright, she would have collapsed onto the floor.

Barnabas was present, as was Julia. Barnabas and Elizabeth had both helped Carolyn into the drawing room, where they sat her on the couch. Elizabeth sat next to her, urging her to give more details. Julia began rummaging through her medical bag.

"I knew the dream would come true," Carolyn had said, as if forcing herself to speak. "And I tried to stop it. I went to Widow's Hill, but there was nothing I could do." She'd then shrieked, "Oh God, why was he taken from me?"

"Better give her a sedative," suggested Julia, and Carolyn had suddenly jumped to her feet, screaming in reply, "I don't want a sedative! I only want Jeb! I want Jeb back!"

Elizabeth had grabbed her about the shoulders and gently pulled her back down onto the couch. "Darling," she said, "tell us about it. Try to. How did it happen?"

Carolyn didn't seem to have heard her. "I want him back!" she wailed, beside herself, nearly breathless from crying. "I want him back!"

"Carolyn, can't you tell us something more?" Barnabas asked, leaning over her from behind.

She'd turned to him and yelled, "You! You've always hated Jeb! You're probably glad he's dead!"

"Darling, that isn't true," Elizabeth had told her. "Barnabas knew just as I did that you were happy with Jeb. That's all that mattered." She felt guilty saying that, because it was a lie. Barnabas _had_ hated Jeb, and for good reason. But now her primary focus was comforting Carolyn, and if doing so meant telling a little white lie, so be it.

Carolyn seemed to believe her, and calmed down enough to speak more coherently. She'd gone to Widow's Hill, she said, and Jeb wasn't there. She'd thought her dream—whatever dream that was; she didn't specify, and no one asked her to—was just that, a dream. But then Sky Rumson had shown up, and told her he'd come there to kill her. He'd tried to, but Jeb had stepped in. He'd saved her. He and Sky had fought, and Jeb had gone over Widow's Hill.

After finally explaining what had happened, she started to cry again, and couldn't seem to stop. She cried until she was too weak to sit up, and then lay on the couch, emotionally drained. Julia managed to convince her to take a sedative.

That was the same night Barnabas had gone into a parallel universe through the parlor room doorway in the East Wing. He was gone for quite some time so he missed Jeb's funeral, which sorely disappointed Carolyn. On the day of the funeral, she asked Julia where Barnabas was—since Julia usually knew his whereabouts—but the only response she received was that he was away on important business. "That's just like Barnabas," Carolyn retorted, "going away on business when there's a death in the family."

Eventually Julia left as well, presumably to help Barnabas with whatever business matters he was attending to, and Carolyn had hardly noticed nor cared. When they both returned, professing to have been transported to a parallel band of time and then to the year 1995, where Collinwood had somehow been destroyed, Carolyn avoided the commotion, either remaining in her room or walking about the house in a black dress, her eyes glazed as if she were in a trance, her movements mechanical. Most nights she could be heard crying herself to sleep behind her locked bedroom door. Elizabeth would occasionally knock on it and ask if she was alright, to which she'd respond, "I'm fine."

It was on one of these nights that Elizabeth persuaded Barnabas to talk to her. "She was so upset that you didn't attend Jeb's funeral," she told him. "I really think she could use some reassurance. Please, Barnabas, for my sake and hers, talk to her. Let her know you care."

Barnabas couldn't refuse.

He immediately went to Carolyn's bedroom door and rapped on it. "Carolyn?" he said gently.

"I'm fine," she responded through a sniffle.

"I'd like to talk to you."

"Did my mother put you up to this?"

Barnabas paused. "Yes," he admitted, "but I do really want to speak to you. It will only take a moment." He paused again, and when there was no answer, he pleaded: "Please, Carolyn."

He heard her feet shuffle across the floor, and then the door opened.

Carolyn was in her nightgown, her hair disheveled, her face flushed. She sat on the edge of her bed, looked up at him, and asked, "What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"You," he replied. "How are you?"

"I'm as well as can be expected." Her voice carried a tinge of indignation.

"I'm sorry I wasn't at Jeb's funeral," Barnabas said.

"No you're not," she spat in return.

"Carolyn, if I could have been there I would have been, but unfortunately it just wasn't possible."

Carolyn tilted her face downward and to the side. She took a breath but it hitched in her throat. "That would have been the least you could do, given how you treated him."

Barnabas opened his mouth to argue. He was tempted to tell her the truth about Jeb—about what Jeb had been and all he'd done—but instantly decided against it. He couldn't bring himself to, and he doubted she'd believe him.

"You never even expressed your condolences," she continued. "Not once since you've been back."

"I've had pressing matters on my mind, Carolyn," he said. "I've seen the future and Collinwood in ruins. I'm trying to stop that from happening."

Carolyn scoffed. "Maybe Collinwood should be destroyed."

"You don't mean that."

"The people in town say this place is cursed. They've been saying it for years. I heard it all the time growing up. This one man at the Blue Whale even said that if hell existed, it had to be directly beneath Collinwood. I think he may have been right." A sob burst out of her. "No one can be happy here!"

"Carolyn, you mustn't think like—" Barnabas began, but she interrupted him: "When I was with Jeb, I felt I had a chance to be happy. _Finally_ happy. But now . . . now he's gone, and I'm alone." Her eyes journeyed back to him, baring into him with resentment and pain. "You . . . all of you, Mother, Roger, Julia . . . you acted like Jeb was some kind of monster. But he loved me, Barnabas. Say whatever you want about him, he _loved_ me." She shielded her face with her hands and cried into them. "Oh God, why did I lose him? Why did you take him from me?"

Barnabas didn't know much about God, if one even existed, but he knew a great deal about monsters. He was well aware of what love could do to even the most monstrous, and Jeb had loved Carolyn. His monstrosities aside, he had genuinely loved her. "Yes, Carolyn," he agreed, "Jeb loved you, and that is the most important thing. That's _always_ been the most important thing—you being loved."

Carolyn removed her hands from her face, taking deep breaths to calm herself. "Carolyn, look at me," Barnabas told her. She did. "I _am_ sorry for your loss," he said, and she could tell he was sincere. "Truly, I am. I apologize if you were led to believe otherwise."

Carolyn managed a hint of an appreciative smile as she replied, "Thank you, Barnabas."

He walked over to her dresser, where she'd taken to keeping a box of tissues, grabbed one, and handed it to her.

"You know, when Julia gave me that sedative, I had a dream," she said.

"Another one?" he asked.

Carolyn dabbed at her eyes and wiped her nose. "I dreamed Jeb came to me, and told me he loved me. He said he couldn't die until he did—tell me, that is. He said we'd meet again someday, and everything would be different then. And you know something?"

"What?"

"I think that dream was real too. I think his spirit really did come to me." She glanced up towards her bedroom ceiling, as if maybe she would find him there, and then turned her attention back to Barnabas. "I believe his soul is out there somewhere, watching over me. Waiting for me. I have to believe that."

"I believe it too," Barnabas said, and he realized as he did so that he _wanted_ to believe it. He wanted to believe Jeb's love for Carolyn had counted for something with the powers that be, and that he was waiting for her. He wanted to believe that even a demi-god who'd come into the world prophesied to overtake it, and had committed such awful atrocities, was able to find a measure of peace.

He hoped so. He hoped there was mercy for monsters.

"Do you?" Carolyn asked him. "Do you really believe it?"

"Yes," he told her. "I do." Then he walked over to her bedroom door. "I think I should leave now and let you get some rest."

As he reached for the doorknob, Carolyn said from behind him, "I just can't understand why I had to lose him—why this chance for happiness was taken from me."

"I don't know," Barnabas replied, pivoting to look back at her. "I don't think anyone will ever be able to answer that. But remember, Carolyn, you married the man you loved and who loved you. At the very least, that's something to be thankful for. It's more than most us Collinses ever get."

With that, Barnabas left the room.


End file.
